Tuesdays
by TehDono
Summary: <html><head></head>"Mr. Bonnefoy, Mr. Carriedo, is there something you'd like to share with the class?" A second later she would regret that question for nothing could stop the explanation that came shortly after.</html>


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia, sadly. If I did Prussia would have all of your vital regions.

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><p><em>(AN: Mrs. Karpusi - Ancient Greece, Mr. Austerlitz - Germania, Dean Roma - Ancient Rome)_

Why was he here again? Gilbert had probably asked himself this same question a thousand times within the past… it had only been twenty minutes! He sighed, his head falling to hit the desk. Of course he knew _why_ he was there; Old man Fritz had told him to attend the school. What the Prussian meant to ask himself was why he was actually in the class room itself. On more than one occasion Gilbert and Antonio snuck to the top of the roof after lunch – especially on Tuesdays.

Seriously, where in life would he actually use the 'arts and humanities'? Now Gym; there was a class that Gilbert knew had meaning. Beating the rest of the classroom was only a part of the reason Gilbert loved gym class so much. There was something about pushing your limits, tiring out your muscles, the physical exertion that Gym class gave you. After the sweat and tears, winning actually made you feel accomplished, as in you had actually done something. _Not to mention, it's not as prissy as this_.

With the last cord, the Austrian lifted his head from the keyboard. Immediately, Elizabeta stood up with applause. The rest of the room had joined in suit, though they did so with less enthusiasm to their action. Even Mrs. Karpusi, the Grecian beauty they had for a teacher, held the performance with a simple nod, appropriately clapping her hands.

"Beautiful performance, Roderich," she said as he stood up. Roderich nodded politely as he walked back to his seat next to Elizabeta. The Hungarian straightened up when he sat down, a sparkle that caused her emerald eyes to shine. Gilbert rolled his eyes, leaning further back into his seat. That love-struck expression that appeared when she looked at him was so annoying.

Not like he cared or anything.

Francis leaned his chair over, turning to whisper in Gilbert's direction. "Mrs. Karpusi and Mr. Austerlitz, totally doing it," he announced. That seemed to be the Frenchman's ultimate pastime; analyzing and more importantly, announcing, who was having sex with who. That was, of course, if it wasn't he himself who was having sex. Multiple times Gilbert had accused the man of being a whore, but Francis took it all in stride. At one point in time, the blond had gone so far as to call himself a man of 'love'.

Antonio, who had sat on the other side of Gilbert, leaned over to join in on the conversation. "That's not possible, he's gay," the Spanish teen said matter of factly. "Him and Dean Roma are together. Ask England – he heard them in the Teacher's lounge last week."

"Who said Dean Roma isn't in on it?" Francis responded with a wink. Antonio burst out into laughter while Gilbert cringed. It was either that they were blissfully unaware of Gilbert's extreme discomfort with the sexuality of their teachers or they fully enjoyed making him cringe. Both were equally possible but the truth revealed itself as Antonio spoke.

"Oh, Francis, I think we're making Gil uncomfortable," he said, noting Gilbert's awkward shuffling in his seat. The two exchanged glances and burst out into laughter. It was times like these that he thought his best friends enjoyed making him cringe. But their laughter was cut short as their names were called.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, Mr. Carriedo, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" Mrs. Karpusi asked as the eyed the two. A second later she would regret that question for nothing could stop the explanation that came shortly after. The words seemed to simply pour from his mouth like water from a faucet.

"Well if you must know Madame Karpusi, me and Toni here were just discussing a very serious matter. Maybe you could help us find the answer," Francis flashed a smile towards the woman at the front of the room, causing her to shiver slightly. "Who's on bottom?"

"Excuse me?"

Francis grin grew. "Mr. Austerlitz or Dean Roma?" he asked quire innocently as he opened up the notebook, revealing the picture he had been working on since the beginning of class. Detailed in its nature, Mrs. Karpusi's face turned beat red. "You see, naturally as you entered the equation, there was no doubt who would be on the top, given your vibrant personality. But on the nights in which you leave, like the cruel whore you might be, there is no such certainty."

Despite the rather cool appearance on the outside, Gilbert was dying on the inside. The blank, ultimately paralyzed expression on the Grecian Woman's face was priceless. She couldn't decide whether to be shocked, disgusted, or angry at the teenager. No matter how disturbing the content of the conversation actually was, Gilbert couldn't take an expression like this for granted. The rest of the room had fallen into silence, many of the students turning back to face the trio. While Gilbert maintained his un-phased appearance, Antonio seemed deeply engaged in the conversation, nodding his head in understanding.

Taking her lack of expression as a sign of her lack of understanding, the Frenchman slowly stood up, making his way to the front of the room. "And so, that leads us to the ultimate question: who is catching in the bottom of the ninth?" As he repeated his question, Francis turned another picture, revealing another drawing – a diagram between two similar relationships. "Dean Roma is indeed very much like our own Feliciano," he said with a wink towards the Italian. Ludwig shot him a death glare but Francis seemed not to notice. "But despite this parallel, the relationships are vastly different. I stand by the belief that –"

"Francis Bonnefoy!" the teacher screamed, her initial shock melting into a blazing fury. "Hallway, now!"

"Of course, Madame," he said with a bow, pulling a scarlet rose from his pocket, offering it to the woman. The chestnut haired Grecian simply swatted the flower away, wadding the red bud into a ball. Even through her violent behavior, Francis only responded with a sparkling smile.

As the door slammed shut, the smooth mask Gilbert had painted on began to crack. With one look at Antonio, both of their masks fell off completely, turning into a fit of laughter. It was a normal afternoon in the World Academy, the Bad Friends Trio stirring up trouble and the rest of the class room being caught in the aftermath. After Mrs. Karpusi and Francis disappeared into the hallway, the rest of the class returned to normal. Segregated into their own groups mindless chatter filtered into the room. Gilbert leaned back against the black board, observing the setting around him.

Beside him sat Ivan Braginski – the kid that everyone was afraid of. An innocent smile was placed on his face, but there was something rather dark set in his violet eyes that made even the amazing Gilbert think twice about what he said. The two Baltic students that surrounded him sat absolutely still, afraid to even move under Ivan's dark, penetrating gaze. Either that or they feared for their life, as they were the only thing separating Ivan from his mentally disturbed younger sister, Natalia. Luckily, today the Russian was rather pre-occupied with pestering his 'favorite' subordinate, Toris Lorinaitis, ultimately leaving Gilbert alone. Not like Ivan could actually hurt him – Gilbert was too awesome to be beaten up.

But that couldn't be said for all of the students in the World Academy. A sleeping Heracles, the grandson of their very own Mrs. Karpusi, was the only thing that separated Alfred and Arthur from ripping each other's heads off. The asian students, who had segregated themselves in a corner of the room, turned and watched the brewing fight with much curiosity, not understanding the fuel to the fire. Rather oblivious to the situation, in the front seats sat Gilbert's little brother and his rag tag group of friends. Ludwig and Kiku sat in the front of the room, copying down the last of the notes that their teacher had left on the board at the beginning of class while Feliciano listened to Lovino's harsh criticisms, not entirely realizing the words themselves were insults.

In the front of the room, Lily and Vash left their seat to approach the Austrian pianist, who sorted through his sheet music. While the little Zwingli sibling offered words of compliment to Roderich, the older's weren't as pretty. Being in the back of the classroom Gilbert couldn't be sure of what Vash was saying, but he could guess for not a second after he spoke Elizabeta stood from her seat, pointing a finger in the blond's face. _Standing up for Roddy, like always…_

Gilbert rolled his eyes. It was just a normal Tuesday in the World Academy.

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><p><em>AN: So, running through some of my old attempted one-shots, I came across this one. Ah... Francis. The funny thing is, that this is the result of the most random discussion I've ever had with my best friend about the akuyuu. I told her I needed a France speech and BAM._

_Smile: The one i half made up in five minutes and you beautifully elaborated to make the most awesome akuyuu moment ever? _

_TehDono: Yes... that one._

_Smile: o wo)b_


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